The Strain: Bloodline
by x.Lady.Midnight.x
Summary: Cassandra Setrakian doesn't do many things well. She's not good with people, relationships, staying on the right side of the law. What she is good at, is killing vampires. So when a deadly virus appears in New York, supposedly killing a plane full of passengers. Cassandra and her grandfather Abraham know not all is as it appears...
1. Prologue

**Soooo, I'm doing a little character throw in. I hope it works. I love The Strain T.V series, it's amazeballs. I just wanted to play around with the characters a tiny bit, so naturally I chose Abraham. 'Cause he's awesome! I just thought... what if Abraham had family? Then I thought... too much. Everybody would be dying all over the place, and then he'd be far too distracted to kick butt. Soooooo, what if Abraham had _a_ member of family? Like a grandson? Only I don't like writing about guys with dramatic paths, girls are so much cooler. So enter grandaughter Setrakian. **

**Enjoy!**

**The Strain: Bloodline**

**~ Prologue ~**

_**Thirteen years ago...**_

_Skin painted in sweat, her heart racing, and finally sweet, doe-like eyes snapped open._

_The room was dark, but whatever had woken young Cassandra Setrakian, was quiet now, it's silence louder than the warning horn of an oncoming train. _

_Tentatively, she placed a curious toe outside her covers, crossing the cold wooden floor in a flurry of footsteps, as her pale hand reached bravely for the door handle. Cassandra poke her head out onto the landing._

_Nothing._

_Just darkness._

"_Mom? Daddy?" She called, her voice barely louder than a whisper, as she made it to their bedroom door._

_She peeked inside._

_Empty. The bed hadn't even been slept in._

"_Where are you?" Cassandra wondered, her little face crinkling prettily, as the shadows of her nightmare crept tauntingly down her spine. _

_A faint light caught her eye, and crouching down, she rested her forehead against the stair railings, discovering that the light belonged to nothing but a silent T.V screen. Perhaps they had fallen asleep downstairs?_

_Reaching the top step, Cassandra was able to switch the landing light on, happy to be bathed in it's artificial warmth, as she slowly began her the decent to the family room. Was that a splash of red she saw? Had her mom dropped another wine glass? Dad had warned her against the beige carpets, she was far too accident prone. _

"_Mom, dad, I had a bad dream." Cassandra mumbled tiredly, happy to find them curled up on the sofa together._

_They didn't answer._

_Cassandra glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, a gift from her grandfather, and raised her eyebrows. Half-three in the morning? No wonder her parents were out cold._

"_Mom?"_

_The girl stepped forward, but stopped, her feet sinking uncomfortably into wet carpet. She grimaced at the sensation. More wine? Cassandra glanced back at the staircase. Was that a crimson hand on her dad's newly papered walls? And the carpet... the red was looking less and less like spilt wine, and more like wild track marks. Track marks that lead directly to the sofa..._

_Was that her mom's necklace?_

_Cassandra bent down, lacing the delicate chain of her mother's 'Star of David' carefully through uncertain fingers._

_It to was flecked with red, she realised, and suddenly Cassandra knew she did not want to look 'round the edge of the couch. She did not wish to see her parent's faces any more. She could turn back, go upstairs and face only the horrors her dreams would provide her. Not this. Not this red room, and it's stench of iron._

_How had she not noticed that before?_

"_Calm yourself, _Mäuschen. _Can't you see they are only sleeping?"_

_Cassandra turned, her gaze meeting a set of piercing, dark eyes, and though she tried to scream, her words only abandoned her. _

_The monster in front of her resembled a man. He was dressed like a man, he sounded like a man, but that was where the similarities ended, and the horror began. For no man could mimic the being in front of her. His skin was whiter than her own, dead, he had no hair, no nose, and his lips were crudely stained scarlet. A red that matched her parent's walls and carpet._

"Strigoi._" She breathed finally, though she might have imagined it._

_Her realisation only seemed to please him, and the cruellest of smiles began to twist his lips , but Cassandra did not wait to see more. She ran, she ran as her grandfather had always taught her._

_To find silver, to find something to protect herself with_

_But what?_

_The necklace in her hand – that was silver – but nowhere near a worthy enough weapon, so she burst into the kitchen, throwing draws to the floor in her haste to find what she needed. In the chaos she somehow happened upon her mom's occasion cutlery, and from it hazardously grabbed the long handled carving knife, cutting herself in the process. _

_Luckily with the adrenalin in her veins, she barely felt it, but it did open other doors for concern._

"_You have hurt yourself, _ Mäuschen, _you should be more careful. We wouldn't want to waste you."_

_Cassandra extended the knife out shakily in front of her, pressing her little body tightly into the corner counter. Her lip trembled when she spoke._

"_I know what you are! Don't come any closer." She ordered loudly, angry, frightened tears streaming relentlessly down rounded cheeks._

_The _Strigoi_ grinned, clasping his hands together loudly. "Oh, 8230385, you have been passing your knowledge onto the younger generations. How very predictable of you." His hand swooped down, snatching the knife from her fingers in a heat beat, before carelessly tossing it aside. He sighed loudly. "And how pointless."_

"_N-n-no." Cassandra whimpered, pressing herself painfully into the work top, as his icy fingertips reached out and subtly grazed her pulse point. "Don't..."_

_He ignored her, of course, and his gaze wondered over her slowly._

"_You have your grandfather's eyes, _Mäuschen. _It is like looking into the past. Tell me, what has he said to you of my kind?"_

"_Just stories." Cassandra whispered, her throat dry as she struggled for her voice once again. She swallowed hard. "Stories that his _Bubbeh _told him."_

"_I see. And you _like_ these stories? Do they amuse you?"_

_Cassandra shook her head, her dark tendrils tumbling messily over her face. "They frighten me. Mom and dad disapprove."_

"_And yet you listen anyway." _

_Her face hardened, her little expression suddenly very intense, her eyes narrowing as they slowly met his._

"_Grandpa says they are meant to frighten me. That they are told as warnings to whoever hears them. So that... that when the time comes, I will know what to do."_

_The _Strigoi_ laughed, flashing his bloodied teeth widely. "Really? You are most amusing, _Mäuschen! _So very serious, just like your grandfather. And what is it that you need to do?"_

"_Kill you all."_

_Without thinking, and acting purely on instinct, Cassandra plunged a different knife into the _Strigoi's _chest. He fell back, surprised, and she wasted no time rushing for the yard door. She threw it open, running screaming into the cold November night. It was snowing again. She yelled louder, praying that the monster wouldn't follow her, her feet slipping on snow and ice, as she rushed blindly forward in a worsening frenzy._

_Suddenly cars were around her, blurring her vision with harsh lights, and shouting at her with their garbled horns. Did they not know her parents were dead? Did they not realise the danger they were all in?_

_Her eyes found his once more._

_Time stilled, and from across a snow blanketed patch of grass, she caught the gaze of the _Strigoi_._

_He was mocking her._

_Their connection lasted only for a moment, before, quite violently, her body collided with an oncoming car._

**R&R!**

**Sooooo, what are we thinking? There aren't many stories to do with The Strain T.V series, so be gentle with your thoughts. I don't know why there aren't more. It's amazing!**

**I'd like to carry it on, I think I will regardless, but would be nice to see if people are enjoying it.**

**Peace out! X**


	2. Prologue: Revisited

**~ The Strain: Bloodline ~**

**~ Prologue: Revisited ~**

_Light. Light. Light. Light. _

_Voices._

_Light._

_Voices._

_Light._

_Pain._

_The _Strigoi.

_Cassandra screamed. She screamed as loud as her lungs would allow her. She screamed until her voice cracked, and her chest protested against the discourteous treatment. She screamed until she could scream no more. _

_Arms. They were pinning her down, whispering words of what sounded like comfort. She felt something sharp scratch her arm. A tooth? A nail? Immediately darkness began to weight on her mind, and the last thing she saw was the dim glow of a heart monitor, before once again, everything went black._

[-]

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Cassandra stirred uncomfortably in the warmth of her cocoon. Outside elements tapping nails against her skull. What was making that stupid sound?_

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Her dad. Was he messing around with the security alarms again?_

_Beep._

_She groaned, close to breaking the surface of her sleep. "Dad, I'm sleeping." She grumbled groggily._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"_Dad!"_

_Cassandra opened her eyes, only to find a sanitised white room staring back at her. She looked down, her leg was in a cast, one of her arms held tightly in a blue wrist support. She frowned, and her head seared with pain._

_What had happened?_

_Glancing unsteadily to her left, she found a large window that looked out onto a hospital's intensive care unit. In the centre of that window stood a doctor draped in white, and three lean men in suits. Two of those men Cassandra did not recognise, the third however..._

"_Grandpa..."_

_She hoped Abraham Setrakian would hear her breath of recognition, a feat she knew to be impossible, and yet to her relief he turned, his face appearing perhaps older than she had ever remembered it being. _

_Cassandra's lips formed a pout of concern, but when she met the deep, sinking, sadness of his gaze, she began to remember, and the pain that followed was as though someone had punched a large gaping hole through her chest. _

_The beeping from the heart monitor quickened, and strangled whimpers erupted harshly from her throat._

_Her parents were dead._

Slaughtered.

_By the _Strigoi_._

"_Grandpa! Grandpa! Grandpa!" She cried, over and over._

_Even when Abraham tore pass the detectives, and held her beaten face in his calloused hands, she screamed for him. Though she knew not why. It was as though she had been possessed. Possessed by grief, and she could not help but haunt him with her pain._

"_Shh, shh, Cassie. It's okay, you're safe now." He offered, a weak attempt at condolence._

_But Cassandra merely shook her head, somehow ignoring the discomfort it brought her. "He killed them. He just... killed them. I didn't know, I thought they were sleeping. I – "_

"_I know, child, but listen. You've been in and out of consciousness for over a week. The doctors, they have been trying to get you to talk, but it was as though you couldn't hear them. Traumatised, they said. You've been very brave,Cassandra, I ask that you stay strong just a little while longer." Abraham breathed urgently, wiping the tell-tale tear tracks from her cheeks. "The authorities will try to talk with you again, but if you tell them the truth, they will not believe you. You must not tell them what you saw. Do you understand, Cassandra? They will take you away."_

_She sobbed. "But, Grandpa – I –"_

"_No. The world is not ready for the monsters we've faced. You must invent one that they can understand. Then, and only then, can we move on from this, and begin to put the world to rights."_

_Cassandra blinked at him, terrified, but slowly reasoning that he spoke only the truth. She glanced at the men waiting impatiently outside the door, detectives no doubt, and nodded._

"_Okay."_

_Abraham pressed a light kiss against Cassandra's forehead, stroking her hair as he reached over and gently lifting the silver 'Star of David' from her hospital bedside table. _

_Gazing at it, he smiled sadly. _

"_Your father begged me to let him give this to your mother. It was your grandmother's once, and very precious to me, but I relented, as he knew I would. Besides... Sacher wouldn't have wanted it left to catch dust in a draw." _

_Abraham fell silent for a moment, his eyes misting over to another time, a happier era of warm chocolate locks and dimpled smiles. He sighed heavily. _

"_It suited your mother when she wore it, and now it is yours, _einnikel_."_

_Carefully, he clasped the thin chain around the back of her neck, admiring the pendant as he slowly pulled back, and allowed the cool metal to slip elegantly from his grasp._

_Cassandra dropped her gaze sadly. "So what happens now?"_

"_You tell me what you know of the _Strigoi_ that attacked you, and then, once we're done here, and these people are done with their own questions, we will go home."_

"_To your Pawn shop?"_

"_Yes."_

_She nodded contently. "Good. I don't want to go back to the house. Not ever."_

_Abraham inclined his head, emphasising. He glanced back subtly over his shoulder. A team of doctors stood waiting to attention outside the door, all itching to reassess his granddaughter's care needs. The police would not wait much longer, either. They would need to be quick._

"_So, the _Strigoi_, Cassie... is there anything you can tell me about him? Anything that stood out to you?" He said, laying a gentle hand on top of her own. _

_Abraham hoped that he did not sound too forceful, he did not wish to frighten her further, but he needed to know what she knew, now, whilst the memory was still fresh._

_Cassandra frowned a little as she thought back, the memories too frightening for her own liking. She was not really ready to relive it all yet. _

"_He talked funny. Like he had an accent. He seemed to know who you were, which was weird. He spoke like you were old friends."_

_Abraham stiffened._

"_Really...did he say anything else to you?"_

"_Not really. He kept calling me, er, _Mäu..sc...hen? _I didn't really understand."_

"_It is German. It means 'little mouse'."_

_Cassandra nodded. "Is he going to come after us again?"_

"_Not if he values his life." Abraham growled, hatred suddenly hardening his gaze. "I have lost enough already, and now he has made my misery yours. His crimes will not go unpunished, Cassie. This I promise you."_

_The elderly man stood carefully from the bed, then, his bones protesting stiffly, but never the less reliable. Cassandra Setrakian could not help but notice he looked beaten suddenly, as if all the world's worries were now pressed onto his narrow shoulders. He had lost his son, but she could tell from his eyes that this was only the first dose of misery they were to receive. It was not over, and they would need to stick together if they were to get through it._

_So she smiled, as kindly and as genuinely as she could, and reached for his hand once more._

"_We will get through this, Grandpa." She murmured gently, sounding decades older than her actual years. "We'll help each other. We can be strong together."_

_Abraham gave her fingers a gentle squeeze. "I hope you're right."_

_**R&R!**_

_**Soooooo, not much interest yet, but that's cool. We've not really started I suppose. But I would still like your critic. Just a little box message away you know ;) A little click, click :)**_

_**Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed. Take care xxx**_


	3. It Begins

***Okay, so thirteen years after the prologue, brings us to the beginning of our story. I'm afraid this chapter isn't as long as would have liked, but it does set up for a more exciting chapter after. I have a fun idea! (evil grin).**

**Thank you my two reviewers, I wish you had signed in so I could reply. Your support meant a lot, and I won't let you down. Updates will be at least once a week, twice for shorter chapters.**

**Enjoy! And please review again :)**

* * *

><p><p>

**The Strain: Blood Line**

_Hunger, a poet once said, is the most important thing we know, the first lesson we learn. But hunger can be easily quieted down, easily satiated. There is another force, a different type of hunger, an unquenchable thirst that cannot be extinguished. Its very existence is what defines us, make us human. That force is love. __**~ Abraham Setrakian **_

**February 9th 2014:**

In the distance a tired telephone sounded, and from her slumber Cassandra stirred, groggy and unwilling. She stretched and threw her arm across her face, hoping the inane noise would cease. It carried on, much to her disdain, and she roughly threw the covers off her legs.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming! Stupid phone. Who the hell's calling at this hour?" Cassandra grumbled, drunkenly stumbling out of her dark cave, and marching to the kitchen.

The caller was persistent if nothing else, she thought, reaching the phone and sighing, as she snatched it aggressively off of it's hook.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Cassandra growled, leaning awkwardly against the wall. "Whatever it is you're selling, we ain't buying, so I'll save you a lot of time, and – "

"_Cassie?"_

She paused.

"Gramps?" It took her a moment to recover. "What are you doing on the phone? It's two in the morning, you're supposed to be resting, your heart – "

"_Look, you can nag me later. I need to know, have you seen the news?"_

"What? No, I've been asleep like any normal person. Why?"

"_Turn the T.V on."_

Cassandra frowned, stretching the cord of the telephone in order to reach the remote. She hit a button, and the screen flashed on immediately, throwing a ghostly glow across the room. To say she was surprised by what she saw, would be an understatement.

"Gramps, why am I watching you being escorted out of JFK airport by New York's not so finest?" She asked flatly, her mouth gaping as she watched police officers hurdle her 88 year old grandfather roughly into a nearby vehicle.

Abraham coughed. _"Don't focus on that. Listen to the reporter."_

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Fine."

A cold looking woman flashed up on the screen not a moment later, no doubt a re-run edit of what was clearly a very big story, and despite her previous doubts, Cassandra found herself listening more and more intently with each passing word.

"_At 10 pm tonight, a flight landing in JFK airport, was found containing no less that 210 passengers, all of which showed no signs of life, with no telling reason. Though rumours have flew that four individuals may have survived these strange events, the government and the CDC are reluctant to share with us any information at this point. Time will only tell."_

"Gramps?" Cassandra whispered, her body numb as she slowly withdrew back into the kitchen. "Gramps you still there?"

"_Yes."_

"You... you think it's _Strigoi_, don't you?"

"_It is _Him_, Cassie. And you know, where he goes, Eichorst can not be far behind. Something big is happening. I can feel it."_

Cassandra rested her forehead against the wall, counting her breaths slow and steady, like her therapist had taught her to do when she was a child – it wasn't helping.

"Why didn't you wake me before you went waltzing off over there?" She growled hotly, though she knew she wasn't really angry at her grandfather. "Now I'm stuck here on my own, and you're God knows where."

"_The precinct on the upper 5th. You're my one phone call." _Abraham replied gruffly, but Cassie didn't miss the lick of amusement in his voice, and if he had been with her, she would have whacked him one. Pensioner or not.

"This isn't funny, Grandpa. I mean, what the hell did you say for them to arrest you? Actually, don't tell me. I know subtly isn't your forte. Point is, what do we do now?"

"_I need you to find me someone that can get hold of that passenger manifest."_

Thinking, Cassandra bit her lip. "Yeah, I can do that. But they're gonna want paying, Gramps."

"_I'm sure a mutual agreement can be made."_

"It normally can." Cassie mumbled, thinking back to her previous dealings with these circles.

Most of them were kids, harmless hackers. They had a way of finding exactly what you wanted, and more, if they really liked you. Cassandra just hoped her old contacts were still active.

"_G-good." _Abraham coughed down the line, before quickly composing himself. _"Make the call now, Cassie, and then I want you to go and get some sleep. You're going to need your strength if we're going to fight this thing. In the morning, you can sort us some artillery."_

"Don't you want me to come visit you? When are you coming home?"

"_In a day or so. They need to find me a court before I can go to trial. Apparently they frowned upon my cane as it is an offensive weapon."_

Cassandra paused. "They found the sword didn't they?"

"_They did."_

"Excellent."

"_It will be fine, Cassie, I'll sort it. Just get some rest and don't let your guard down."_

Cassandra laughed despite herself. "You realise those two statements are completely contradictory?"

"_I'm not sure if you've noticed, but everything about our lives is contradictory." _Abraham chuckled, before suddenly turning very serious, and sobering Cassie's lightened mood. _"But we can not waste time thinking on that. The Strigoi do not sleep, and every second we spend in idleness, the wheels of their plan move closer to their destination."_

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Nice. You're leaving me on a light note."

"_Be safe, _Bubbala._"_

"You to, Gramps." She simpered.

The line went dead.

**Read and Review, Chickens!**


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